Sunset's New Dawn
by TCIF
Summary: Third in the Rena/Bobby series
1. Something out of the Ordinary

**Chapter 1-Something out of the Ordinary**

Bobby Goren rubbed his eyes as he shuffled down the hallway to his apartment. After four extremely long nights of stake-outs and cold coffee, they finally found the guy they were looking for a couple of hours before dawn. After spending several hours in the interrogation room, he and Alex were closer to closing this case, but not quite there yet. Sighing heavily, he inserted the key into the door and entered his apartment.

Closing the door behind him, Bobby took off his leather jacket and ran his fingers through his hair. He tossed his leather binder, badge and keys on the table by the door. Something wasn't right here. Everything looked fine, but his gut screamed that something was out of the ordinary. Closing his eyes briefly to fight off the fatigue that seemed to be clouding his mind, he reexamined the apartment. A blue quilt lay on the couch, instead of on the back, a couple of pillows from the couch were scattered onto the floor. Bobby walked over to the couch and absent mindedly straightened up the pillows and quilt. He sat down on the couch and removed his shoes, briefly wishing he could just stretch out on the couch. The television reflected the quiet contours of his living room. Quiet. It was too quiet.

Bobby walked into the kitchen, and found his step-son, Jason, happily eating a bowl of Cheerios. Noticing the mess on the counter, he quickly realized that the six-year old kindergartener had managed to fix his own breakfast. "Good morning, Jason."

The boy's eyes lit up as the sight of Bobby, jumping down from his chair and ran to give him a huge hug. Bobby lifted Jason up off the floor and wrapped him into a huge bear hug, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Jason rubbed his face, "You need to shave. Your face is prickly."

"Hey, I kinda like my beard." Jason shook his head no, and returned to his cereal. As Bobby cleaned up the mess on the counter, he glanced over at Jason, "Where's your mom?"

Jason answered real quietly, "She's sick."

"Sick?"

Nodding, he replied with a mouthful of Cheerios, "Mommy threw up this morning." He spewed wet Cheerios over the table as he spoke.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Jas. I'll check on Mom in a minute, but first you need to get ready for school."

Jason nodded, and lifted his bowl to drink the milk. He then trotted to his room, with Bobby on his heels. Bobby hoped that his wife, Rena, had put out Jason's clothes as usual the night before. Noticing that she had, he handed Jason his favorite dinosaur sweater and blue jeans, then herded him into the hall bathroom to change and brush his teeth.

Returning to the kitchen, he checked the schedule for school. Several moms that attended Jason's school had gotten together and swapped out taking and picking up the kids for school. Fortunately, Mrs. Williams was picking up today, so Bobby didn't need to worry about getting Jason to school.

Jason bounced into the kitchen with his shoes in hand. While he knew _how_ to tie his shoes, he preferred an adult to do it. About the time that Jason's shoes were tied, there was a knock at the door. Jason ran into his room to grab his backpack, while Bobby opened the door.

Mrs. Williams took a step back at seeing the tall and barefoot detective, since he rarely was home at this time. Slightly surprised, she tried to regain her composure, "Mr. Goren, how nice to see you."

Smiling sheepishly, "You as well, Mrs. Williams. I ran home from work for a few minutes to grab a shower and change of clothes."

"You need to slow down and take care of yourself, Mr. Goren. Don't let them run you into the ground." Behind her, her six year old son and eleven year old daughter argued over who was going to sit up front with their mother in the van.

Jason then darted between the two adults, glanced over his shoulder, "Bye!"

Grabbing Jason's jacket, he gently tossed it to the boy in the hallway, "Hey, buddy, you're going to need this!"

Frowning Jason peered up at Bobby with big blue eyes, "But it's too hot in the afternoon!" he whined.

Bobby didn't answer; he just looked at Jason with the same gaze that made many suspects confess their crimes. Jason's face fell in defeat, "Ok. I'll put it on!"

Grinning, Bobby waved, "Have a good day at school!"

Laughing Mrs. Williams turned to Bobby, "Hey, can I borrow you to deal with my middle-school daughter? I mean one look, and he folded!" Laughing she followed the kids down the hallway, "Remind your wife that she has mornings next week!"

Bobby nodded then closed the door to the apartment. As soon as the door closed, his expression became worried and concerned. Rena was nowhere in sight. Even when she's not feeling too well, she's never failed to come out to get Jason ready for school. Walking through the apartment, a sharp pain in his foot caused him to stop and curse. Looking down at the floor, he saw several stray Legos scattered across the hallway. How he managed not to step on one earlier was almost miraculous.

Limping slightly into his bedroom, he quietly opened the door. He could hear the water running from the master bathroom. Tapping softly on the bathroom door, knocking it open to reveal his wife, still dressed in her pajamas splashing water on her face. "Hey, beautiful."

She glared at him, "I not so sure about that."

Wrapping his arms around her and kissing her cheek, "No matter what, you're beautiful."

Rena pushed him off, "Must not be that beautiful since you haven't come home all week."

The tone in which she replied stung him, deeply. Following her into their bedroom, "Babe, you know I can't control that."

"Whatever. I don't really feel talking about it right now." She began rummaging through the closet, and tossing clothes on the bed.

Bobby felt the tension from his wife, and tried to change tactics, "Jason said you were sick this morning."

"I'm still fighting that stomach bug I had this weekend."

Concerned, he tried to get closer to his wife, "Perhaps you should call in today, and see a doctor."

"I'll be fine; my stomach is just really sensitive right now."

"Rena..."

She interrupted him, "I've got to get ready for work." And she slammed the bathroom door in his face.

Bobby sighed. Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed a towel from the hall closet, and went into the other bathroom to grab a quick shower.

After finishing his shower, he wrapped the blue towel around his waist and headed back to the bedroom, carefully avoiding the scattered Legos that were on the hallway floor. Still pondering how to soothe his agitated wife, it took him a few moments to realize that she was sitting on the edge of the bed, only partly dressed, staring at a white plastic tube on the dresser.

Gently, he touched her shoulder, "Babe, are you ok?"

Startled, Rena turned toward him and snapped, "I'm fine."

Unwilling to let the tension between them continue, "Really? So you barely crawl out of bed, you don't get Jason ready for school, you not dressed yet and you expect me to assume that you're fine?" Bobby let loose his temper, "So don't sit there and tell me everything is 'fine' when I know that it damn well isn't!"

Unexpectedly, Rena burst into tears. Bobby dropped the towel, and held her as she cried. After a few minutes, he tilted her head up and brushed her auburn hair out of her face. "Come on, baby. Tell me what's wrong." He softly pleaded.

Tears still flowing, "It's just we never talked about it. I mean the possibility has always been there." She stood and began to pace the room, "Whenever we talked about the future we've always talked about the three of us."

With a puzzled expression on his face, Bobby stood up and once again, wrapped his arms around her, "Babe, tell me what's wrong. Talk to me."

Rena peered up into his warm dark brown eyes, trembling slightly, "Bobby, I'm pregnant."

One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. "Are . . . are . . . are you sure?"

Pointing at the white plastic tube he noticed earlier, "That's the third test I took."

"How? I mean I know how, but . . . but when? I've been working so much lately and fitting in Jason's soccer practice and games. . ."

Rena glanced at him, "Pennsylvania. About a month ago for our anniversary. Remember that little place?"

His mouth turned up into a smile, "I remember you getting jealous over the attention that country store manager was giving me."

Unable to resist smiling at his teasing, Rena punched his arm, "I was not jealous. Just defending my turf, buddy."

Bobby cupped her face with his hands and kissed her deeply. "Thank you."

"For what?"

Placing his hand on her stomach, he gently answered, "For this. For you. I love you more than I think words can ever fully express."

Rena's face reflected the love and compassion that she felt, "Even when I'm going to drive you crazy with wild food demands and mood swings?"

"Even then." He grinned. "Let me go into the office and clear up a few things, and both of us will go to see the doctor together. No arguments, either. I'll make the appointment myself if I have to."

Jovially, she took a step back, as she scanned him and the fallen towel, "I think you might need to get dressed first though."

A few hours later, in the Major Case Squad room, Bobby sat at his desk, trying to give the impression that he was diligently working on his paperwork. Instead he stared off into space. It took Alex a few minutes to realize that her partner, while physically sitting their in the squad room with her, definitely wasn't there mentally.

"Hey, do you need to grab some sleep upstairs?" She paused. When Bobby didn't answer her, she gently prodded, "Bobby?" Waving her hand in front of his face, "Earth to Bobby! Anyone there?"

Surprised, Bobby sheepishly peered at Alex, "Sorry about that. I've got a lot on my mind today." He attempted to go back to his paperwork.

"Want to talk about it?"

Shrugging, he didn't reply. Alex, as stubborn as her partner, didn't relent. "Come on, it can't be that earth shattering can it?" Grinning mischievously, she tried to get her partner to open up, "It's not like Rena is pregnant or anything."

Bobby bolted up in his chair at the comment. Studying her for a few long moments, he tried to decide if she was just joking, or if she already knew. Words at this point seemed to inadequate express anything, so he just nodded. Very slowly and deliberately.

Alex's jaw dropped. "Bobby, I was just kidding. Are you serious?"

Rubbing the back of his head, he leaned back in his chair. "Yeah. She told me this morning when I went home to change."

With a grin that made the Cheshire cat's look small, "Bobby that's great! Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Then she stopped, "Is the world ready for another Bobby Goren?"

At that moment Danny Ross appeared at the two detectives' desks, "What's the progress on the Renshaw case?" After looking at the two detectives, he just had to ask, "And why would we want another Bobby Goren?"

Alex beamed, "You want to tell him, or should I?" Bobby leaned back in his chair and waved her on. "Rena just informed Bobby that he's going to a proud papa."

Ross's eyebrows shot up, "Congratulations, Detective." Checking his watch he added, "Both of you have lived here pretty much all week, turn in your paperwork and head out for the day. Reacquaint yourselves with your families."

About twenty minutes later, Bobby entered Ross's office to give him the paperwork on the stake-out that yielded the suspect in the Renshaw murder. As he turned to leave, Ross spoke up, "Close the door and have a seat Goren."

Puzzled, he did as Ross requested. He and Ross had never developed an easy relationship, and part of the blame for their tense relationship sat on his shoulders.

Ross set two glasses on his desk, and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. As he poured for both of them he spoke, "I clearly remember the day my ex told me that she was expecting my eldest son." Chuckling at the memory, he continued, "I think I walked around with that same dazed expression that you have for about a week." With a knowing smile, Ross handed Bobby a glass, "Congratulations, Detective."

Holding his glass up for the toast, Bobby sipped at the whiskey, slightly surprised at how good it was. "Sorry if I was a little out of it today. I'm still in shock."

Ross chuckled again, "I've been in your shoes, Goren." Waving towards the elevators, "Head on home. Remind yourself what home looks like, and don't bother coming back until Monday. You and Eames have already run up enough overtime to have the Chief breathing down my neck."

Bobby finished he drink, "Thanks for the drink, Captain. See you Monday."


	2. Lunch Dates and Baby Things

**Chapter 2-Lunch Dates and Baby things**

_Approximately eight months later_

Rena stepped off the elevator and glanced around, scanning the sea of faces for her husband's. Spotting Alex sitting at her desk, she made her way over to see her husband's partner. As easily as possible, Rena slid over to Alex's desk. "Hey, Alex."

Alex glanced up, and beamed at the sight of Rena. Rising from her desk she gave her a big hug, "Hey, yourself! What are you doing here?"

"Baby appointment. You know how Bobby is about being there with me at all these doctor appointments. I thought I would stop by early and see if I couldn't grab him for lunch before we go."

Alex scrunched her eyes shut momentarily, "That's right, he told me about it yesterday. I totally forgot! He's in the interrogation room right now, with the new guy." Pulling out the chair from Bobby's desk she gestured toward it, "Might as well make yourself comfortable until he gets done. Shouldn't be too long now."

Rena eased herself down into Bobby's chair, which wasn't the most comfortable chair in the world. Rena now understood why Bobby hated to stay in the office and fill out paperwork. "Why aren't you in there with him?"

Alex rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed. "This suspect is so shy around women, ANY woman, that he totally freezes up when ever one is in the room with him." She gestured toward the interrogation rooms, "I've come across some shy guys, but I mean he really takes the cake!"

Rena laughed, as she tried to make herself comfortable. "How's the new guy working out?"

Shrugging, Alex glanced over at his desk, "Johnson? I think he's over the whole, 'New Guy' thing, but he should be alright." Waving the issue aside, Eames changed the subject. "Ok enough shop talk, let's talk about something more interesting, like baby names."

Rena wagged her finger at Alex, "Can't wait to find out what your godchild's name is going to be can you?"

"Heck, I wish you guys would just find out if it's a boy or girl! Do you realize how many cute outfits I've had to pass up?"

Laughing loudly, Rena exclaimed, "Tell me about it, Alex! My mother and one of my good friends out in California have been nagging us for months now! But you know Bobby; he really wants it to be a surprise."

"What names have you settled on?"

"If it's a boy, I really want to name him after Bobby."

"I take it he's against it?"

"Yeah, for a couple of different reasons. I think part of the reason is because he doesn't like his middle name, and doesn't want to saddle any child of his with that name."

Alex's eyebrow pulled together in concentration, "You know, in all the years that I have been Bobby's partner, I don't think I know what his middle name is. I mean, I know he has Robert O. Goren on his cards, but I don't know what the O stands for."

"He didn't tell you!" Giggling she continued, "He _hates_ his middle name. It stands for . . ."

"Welcome, Mrs. Goren." Danny Ross interrupted, ignoring the suddenly irritated look on Alex's face.

"Hello, Captain Ross. It's good to see you again."

"Please, call me Danny." He glanced at Eames. "They just got him to confess, Eames. They are taking him to booking now. The new ADA is wanting your files this afternoon . . ." he trailed off, knowing that Goren was scheduled to be out that afternoon.

Alex lifted her eyes towards the ceiling, "Of course. I'll get 'em ready."

Just then, Elizabeth Rodgers walked off the elevator, and headed straight for the trio. Nodding to Alex and Rena, she turned her full attention to Ross, "I'm ready to go over the anomalies in the Kurita case with you and Detective Wheeler."

Ross gestured towards his office, "We can talk in my office, Rodgers. Let me grab Wheeler." Nodding at Rena, he said to her, "Mrs. Goren, good to see you again."

"You too, Captain." As the two women watched Danny follow Rodgers into his office, Rena asked Alex, "So, are they still together?"

"As far as I know they are." Alex rolled her eyes toward the ceiling, "Of course, they stay _so_ professional during office hours."

"Bobby seems to think they make a good match. So, how do you want your coffee tomorrow since you're doing Bobby's half of the paperwork?"

Laughing, Alex leaned forward, "If you could drop the hint about the new place around the corner having these really good caramel and chocolate lattes, I'll forgive him for the paperwork."

"Consider it done."

Neither woman noticed the group of men emerging from the elevators, nor the automatic weapons, until it was too late.


	3. A Change of Plans

Chapter 3 – Change of Plans

**Chapter 3 – Change of Plans**

Detective Robert Goren watched Andrew Johnson, the newest member to the Major Case squad, escort the suspect down out of the interrogation room and down the hall for booking. His defense lawyer, and possibly the ADA, will probably ship him off to Bellevue Hospital. That guy did not belong in Rikers for any length of time.

Danny Ross walked into the room, "Good work, Detective." He gestured towards the man who followed him into the room, "This is ADA Vincent Calhoun. He's been assigned to this case."

Calhoun reached out and shook Bobby's hand. "Good work, Detective." Glancing back at Ross, he asked, "Is there any way I can get you case files by the end of the day? I'll need to move quickly on this, before he decides to change his mind."

Bobby's eyebrows drew together in irritation. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the metal table in the room. Before he could even get out that he wouldn't be able to get the file ready, Ross answered for him, "Detective Goren will be unavailable the rest of the day, however I will have his partner, Detective Eames prepare the files and send them over to your office."

Calhoun nodded, and looked back over his shoulder at Bobby, "That will do. Again, nice job, Detective." He then proceeded out of the room.

Ross shook his head, gesturing towards the paper on the table. "I'll let Eames know what's going on. Go ahead and try to get out of here, before something else comes down the line."

He nodded, and then checked his watch. Perhaps he would be able to meet Rena for lunch before her doctor appointment today. Grinning, he began to gather the scattered paper back into the file. He still had a hard time believing that he was going to be a dad soon. Was he ready? Guess he didn't have much of a choice. Noticing the time, he quickly finished putting everything back into the correct file, no need to make Eames go searching for stuff while she filled out the paperwork. He would probably have to bring her coffee tomorrow morning to make up for it. Wonder if she had tried that new coffee shop around the corner yet?

Detective Andrew Johnson escorted the suspect to his holding cell, and then turned to the computer to process the booking. Johnson still was a little awed by what he just saw. While he had served on the NYPD for several years, he had never seen detective work like that before. He had heard the low whispers about Goren, but from what he had just seen, they were all a bunch of crap. Why in the hell did the brass upstairs have it out for a guy with his closing ratio? Shaking his head, he finished the report and hit send.

As he was heading down the hall, back towards the interrogation rooms, he heard the shouting. Frowning at this unusual event, he tried to make out the words being said. The hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up; something wasn't right. He pulled out his cell phone and sent a quick text message to his partner, Jackson, telling him to stay away. Shouldn't be a problem since he was in court all day, which is why Ross asked him to work with Goren this morning. Something just didn't feel right here. The sound of gunfire confirmed Johnson's gut feeling. Something had just gone very, very wrong.

The sounds of shouting stopped Bobby from walking out into the hallway. Concerned, he started to head out to see what the problem was when he heard the sounds of gunfire. Immediately, Bobby crouched down and slid back into the interrogation room. Drawing his gun, he took a quick glance around the corner. He saw Johnson, also crouched down shuffling down towards him. Bobby held up his hand for him to stop. Taking a deep breath, Bobby leaned against the door, listening. Peering down the hallway towards the squad room, he still heard shouting and arguing.

Bobby moved out from the interrogation room and down the hall towards the cells and Johnson. Whispering in a low voice, "Something's wrong. Very wrong."

Johnson nodded, "Could it just be an accident?"

Shaking his head no, "If it was an accident then Ross would have yelled out the code phrase for the all clear. I hear lots of shouting, but not that phrase. Let's secure the back stairs, before we take any action."

Both detectives took one last glance down the hall towards the squad room and their co-workers. Bobby turned toward the end of the hallway. Standing before him was a guy, about six feet 2 inches, dressed in all black and wearing a black ski mask over his head. He raised his gun, but the intruder was quicker. Bobby saw the butt of the gun heading straight for his head. As the blackness consumed him, he thought about his wife, and the fact that he wasn't going to meet up with her as planned.


	4. Plans and Preparations

Chapter 4-Plans and Preparations

**Chapter 4-Plans and Preparations**

_Two Days Earlier_

Will Mires nervously glanced over at the spot where he last saw his brother. He had never seen him so angry, or so determined. Shuddering, Will tried to make himself very small against the wall. It was one thing to jack a car or rob an OTB, but to go into the NYPD? Hell that was suicide! Scott wasn't taking no for an answer though. He had grilled and beaten Melinda for weeks to get every detail from her about the squad room. Why the hell did Melinda even mention Scott to those detectives? What the hell was she doing near the water anyway? And getting picked up by those detectives was just plain stupid. Did she know that it would be packed with cops down there looking for who killed that banker? And then to tell those detectives about Scott! Will peeked over at her; her chest barely moved and Will couldn't remember when Scott had given her anything to eat. How many days can you go without food he wondered?

He longed for the syringe that sat on the table across the room. His body screamed for it, sweated for it. He couldn't show it. Steel. Nerves of steel, just like Scott taught him. He could, no, he _had_ to resist it. Otherwise he would be weak, and Scott had no use for weakness. He glanced once more at Melinda, lying in a naked huddled lump in the corner, dark purple bruises covering her body. Will found his resolve to go without the syringe for a while longer; no way did he want to end up broken, beaten and raped like that. Scott wouldn't hesitate to show him the same treatment he showed Melinda. Perhaps even worse since Scott was his brother.

The metal door to the room slammed open, bouncing off the concrete wall. A large figure stood in the doorway. Taking a step into the room, the light reflected off the sweat that glistened off his 6'7" muscular frame. His blond hair was cropped short, in military style. He wore camouflaged pants tucked into his tightly laced black combat boots. His brown t-shirt, with the sleeves cut-off, completed his uniform. Nothing about his dress or demeanor even suggested that he wasn't a cold-blooded killer. Kneeling down in front of Will, the imposing figure tilted his head up. "Holding up?" Swallowing, Will just nodded. Standing up, the man walked to the table and picked up the syringe. Kneeling down in front of Will again, he held the syringe up. It took everything that Will had not to grab the syringe out of his hands. Grinning, the man studied him. "I'll give it to you, but you have to do something first, ok?"

Will nodded, his eyes focused on the syringe. He would do anything for that syringe.

Grinning, the man turned his head to gaze at Melinda. Reaching down into his boots, he pulled out a large black knife. The four inch long seriated blade curved near the tip into a straight edge. The black metal did not reflect the light, it absorbed it. Scott expertly tilted the knife in his hand, then handed it to his younger brother, Will. "Kill her, little brother."

Will hesitated for a moment. In the back of his mind, an old memory stirred, "_You are going down a dark, dark road, Will. And I have no desire to see the person who emerges from the end of that journey."_ Scott wove the syringe in between his fingers, taunting him. The syringe made the decision for him. Gripping the knife, he moved over to Melinda.

_Earlier that Morning_

Scott glanced up at Tom as he walked back into the warehouse. Tom jerked his head in acknowledgment. Nodding, Scott returned to getting his gear ready. After nearly four years as Special Forces, he knew he couldn't miss a detail. He slid the last ammo cartridge into his pack, and studied his crew. After his discharge from the Army, he settled in New York running his own crew of ex-Army guys. There was very little criminal activity he wasn't involved in, and the cops had no knowledge of it.

At least they didn't until that stupid cow Melinda opened her big mouth. She couldn't have blabbed to a regular patrol officer either. She had to blab to NYPD's elite Major Case, he thought, shaking his head; more like Major pain in the Ass Squad. Now he had to go in and clean up the mess she created. Stupid bch.

Motioning his crew over to him, he gave them their orders. "Ok, Tom, Lou and Trac, I want you to take the main entrance. As soon as you arrive, be sure to shut down the elevators and secure the stairs. Will and I will come up the back way and secure that exit. Set the explosives on the doors as soon as it's secure."

Narrowing his gaze at them, he continued, "Don't talk. The less these guys hear your voices, the better off we'll be. Lou and Tom, as soon as we have the room secured, begin getting their weapons and cell phones; don't hesitate to shoot if needed. Trac will cut the regular phone and internet lines." Gazing at them once more, he pulled the black ski mask over his face, "Let's do this."

Putting his arm around his little brother, he spoke quietly to him. "Don't worry about it, Will. We'll be in and out before you know it. Maybe take a few of those cops with us." Patting his back, Scott smirked, "They'll never know what hit 'em."

Scott and Will came up the back stairs. Luck was indeed with them, Scott thought. No one had even seen them enter through the back stairs, especially since someone had been careless enough to leave the door slightly ajar. Scott stood by the gray metal door with _Major Case Squad_ etched in it. Checking his watch, he waited. Then he heard the sounds of shouting and gunfire. Curse Trac, he started a full minute early. Shrugging, he opened the door and pulled out his 9mm. No one was in this room except for a couple of cons in the holding cell, waiting to be moved. Scott ignored them.

Heading towards the doorway, he saw brief movement in the hallway. A quick check revealed two cops in the hall, their attention focused in the other direction. Scott could hear the chaos that his crew was making. Grinning underneath the mask, he prepared to take care of the two in the hallway. To his delight, both were headed right towards him. Without a moment's hesitation, he took the butt of his gun and knocked both of them out.

He gestured Will towards another room. Will nodded and headed into the room, stepped out and gave him thumbs up. Will continued down the hallway checking two more rooms, giving the thumbs up sign each time. Scott reached down and grabbed the first cop's arms and began to drag him into the first room.

Will came and helped him, which was good because this guy was heavy. Scott looked him over and estimated him to be about 6'4"; not much shorter than himself. He studied the cop for a moment. The cop's graying hair and weight made him look like a push-over, yet something in his gut told him to watch this one closely. Very closely. He waved Will back into the hallway for the other cop, while he checked out the room. Noticing the sign on the door, he grinned. Interrogation Room, perfect.

In less than thirty minutes, his crew had control over the entire squad room. Everything had gone according to plan. Scott leaned back and propped his feet up on the desk. According to the sign on the door, it belonged to Danny Ross. Scott didn't care; right now it served as his command post. He had his crew put all the men into the two interrogation rooms, while the women were put in one of the glass conference rooms. One of the women was pregnant; that could help him out later. Scott surveyed his conquest, and relished in the sweet smell of victory.


	5. Where's the Cavalry?

**Chapter 5 – Appetizers**

Eames leaned against the wall, her attention focused on the squad room. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line, her eyes harder than stone. She calculated every possible escape route, and replayed the events of what just happened over and over in her mind. Who would have thought that armed gunman would be that bold?

Grimacing, she realized that it was actually very smart. Since this squad seldom dealt with any 'walk-ins' from the street, the protocol for the squad was to secure all service weapons. While the detectives were in and out of the building for the day, most keep their weapons on them. However, if they were going to be sitting at their desks or be in court all day, most of them tended to lock them up in the gun lockers. To prevent any accidents. Eames shook her head and gritted her teeth. That protocol didn't prevent any accidents today, but only helped one catastrophe occur.

Rodgers finally managed to sit up straight, the green gone from her face. During the ambush, she had gotten slammed into a door frame. That resulted in her breaking her arm. Rodgers talked Eames and Wheeler through setting the break, but the pain caused her to be extremely nauseous. Eames was glad that Rodgers managed not to throw up; being stuck in the increasingly small conference room with the smell of four very nervous women was going to be bad enough if this dragged out for any length of time.

Eames glanced over at Rena while she tried to make herself comfortable in the chairs. These were never designed to be comfortable, and they definitely were not designed for an eight ½ month pregnant woman. Eames tried to keep her face blank as she tried to figure out a way out of this mess. Their attackers did not leave much at her disposal. She hoped like hell Bobby had made it out the back stairs and that he had managed to call the cavalry in.

***

A dull throbbing sensation in his head finally awoke him. He gingerly opened his eyes, shielding them from the bright light of the room with his hand. It didn't take him long to recognize the interrogation room, and from the looks of it, about half the squad room was packed in here with him. Pushing himself up, he looked around the room. Johnson reached over and helped him ease up into a sitting position.

Goren rubbed his head where he was hit. "What's our situation, Johnson?"

Johnson grimaced slightly, "Half of the squad is being held in here, the remainder of the rest of the squad is in the other interrogation room. Captain Ross and Detective Nichols are in there, too."

"Eames and Wheeler?"

Shaking his head, Johnson replied, "I didn't see them."

Detective Frost spoke up from across the room, "I saw Eames, Wheeler, Rodgers and a civilian women being put in the small conference room."

Goren raised his eyebrows, "Who was the civilian?"

Frost shrugged his shoulders, "I didn't recognize her; maybe a witness?"

Goren groaned slightly. A civilian could complicate matters, and complications right now were not going to make getting out of here any easier. He only hoped that Eames was able to see a way out of this mess that he couldn't see from here.

***

Danny Ross wasn't just a little mad, he was totally pissed off. Those guys had the nerve to attack not only the NYPD, but to attack _his_ squad. He really wanted to pace around the room, but with half of his squad crammed in here, plus the table and chairs, pacing was impossible.

He began examining the members of his squad that were in the room with him. Nichols, Melbourne, Rich, Logan… he stopped. Logan? Glaring back at his former detective, "Logan, what the hell are you doing here?"

Grinning sheepishly, Michael Logan answered him, "Well, I had to drop off some paperwork here and I thought I would come by and see how you guys were doing…"

Ross grimaced, of all days for Logan to visit. "Don't suppose you're carrying are you?"

Logan shook his head. "Nah; didn't want to give anyone the wrong idea, besides, I'm only a few days away from getting my P.I. license. I can't have anything interfere with that."

Nodding Ross tilted his head towards the window, "Do we know who's in the other room?"

Nichols spoke up, "I saw them force Frost, Johnson and Knox in there. I assume that Goren is also in there, since he's not here and there were no shots fired from this area."

Waving the men in the room to join him at the table, Ross took charge of the situation. "Alright, gentlemen, what are we looking at here?"

***

Scott gathered his crew around the desk. After rummaging through the squad captain's desk, he had found a bottle of fairly good whiskey. After pouring three glasses for himself and two of the members of his team, he kicked back slightly. Will sat over in the corner, out of Scott's way. Noticing this, Scott reached into one of his thigh pockets and lightly tossed a slim black case over to Will.

Will gently opened the case, his eyes popping open wide, "Can I?"

Scott jerked his head in the affirmative, watching Will take out the syringe. Dismissing Will for the moment, he turned to Tom and Trac indicating they should each take a glass. He knew that Lou's form of enjoyment couldn't be found here, at least not at the moment.

"What's our current status," Scott asked.

Tom answered him. "Phone and internet lines have been disabled. Lou and I confiscated all cell phones and weapons."

Scott gestured towards the entrance, "And the elevators and stairs?"

Trac spoke up. "I disabled the elevators and jammed the doors to the stairs shut. They have also been rigged to blow should anyone try to open them."

"Is there a way for us to get out without killing ourselves?"

"Yeah; I've rigged it so all you have to do is remove the red pin from the pack and it'll disarm. Do anything else and it'll blow."

Scott glanced over at Will, who had injected the drug. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, seemingly lost in the high that his drug gave him. Scott knew that he would be worthless for about another hour, and then he would be of use to him again.

"Lou, get into the computers and start looking for the information we came after."

"And the paper files," Lou asked.

"Give me a place to start looking, and I'll get those as well," Scott told him. Tom and Trac, I want you on guard at both entrances to the squad room. When Will gets his head back on, I'll have him start checking on the hostages every hour."

"That pregnant woman going to be a problem," Lou asked.

Scott leaned back into the chair, and answered Lou. "Not at the moment. However, she may prove useful to us, especially when the cops send their negotiators down here to us. They'll be fearful of doing anything with a pregnant woman in here." He pressed his hands together, his brow wrinkled. Raising his eyes up at his crew, he continued. "After Will has performed his first round of checks on the hostages, have this Captain Ross fellow visit the other two rooms of hostages. Negotiators will tend to believe his account of everyone's well-being as opposed to our own."

"One of those women broke her arm." Tom piped in.

"And she had two of the others set it for her. I watched." Scott stood up and glared at his crew, "Let's get moving."


	6. Trying to Find Answers

**Chapter 6—Trying to find Answers**

Logan stood around the table with Ross and the other detectives from the Major Case Squad. He knew them all pretty well, exceptexpect for Nichols. From what Wheeler had told him, he was ok. Logan still didn't fully trust him; hard to trust someone you've never worked with before.

"Look, Captain, you know that once we start, Eames and Wheeler will rush to join us. That should help even the odds a little."

Danny Ross shook his head, "I don't think so Logan. Besides, I don't want them to risk it."

Logan narrowed his eyes at Ross, "Like you could keep them from it?"

Sighing Ross shook his head again. "There's a civilian in the room with them, plus Rodgers. I know that Rodgers broke her arm during the initial few minutes of the attack."

Shrugging his shoulders, Logan responded, "Then we just make sure the civilian is out of the way. Hell, technically in about three days I'm a civilian."

Ross looked up and stared Logan straight in the eye. "The civilian is Rena Goren."

Silence echoed around the room. Every detective in there knew Goren's probable reaction to his very pregnant wife being in harm's way. And no one wanted to be around to see it.

"Does Goren know?" Logan asked, breaking the silence.

"Unless someone else told him, I don't believe so."

Nichols spoke up at that moment. "Who's in there with Goren?"

Rich answered him, "Johnson, Frost and Knox. Jackson was in court this morning."

Logan walked over to the wall, banging it with his fist. "Did they see her? Would they tell Goren?"

"Johnson wouldn't have seen her. He was back here with Goren and a suspect. I don't believe that Frost or Knox know Rena," Rich replied.

Ross sighed, "So, any idea that doesn't include Eames and Wheeler?"

Before anyone could say anything, the door to the interrogation room opened and two of the masked men entered. Without saying a word, they gestured for everyone to stand against the wall, and no one really wanted to argue with automatic assault rifles. The taller of the two men walked over and grabbed Ross's jacket, and hauled him out of the room.

Logan took one look at the smaller guy. This guy wasn't too smart, since he stood in front of Logan with his back to him. Unwilling to let the opportunity slide by, he punched the guy in the back, near the kidneys. Wheeling the intruder around, Logan managed to knock the gun from his hands, and deliver a beautiful right upper cut square on his jaw.

The sound of a gunshot stopped Logan in his tracks. Before he could blink, the taller guy rushed in and punched Logan in the face, throwing him against the wall. Two of the other attackers entered and pointed their guns at the detectives. Rich dropped the gun that had fallen to the ground during the fight.

Once the tall guy was convinced that the room was secure again, he walked over to Logan and threw two quick punches. The first to his stomach doubled Logan over, while the second punch was right at his mouth, sending him to the floor. Standing over him, the masked man sent two quick kicks to his ribs and then walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Logan managed to sit up, wiping the blood from his mouth. "Well, that didn't go too well did it?"

***

Ross heard the scuffle behind him, and from the sounds of it, Logan was trying to get them the hell out of there. The attacker escorting him out of the interrogation room shoved him up against the wall and ran back into the room.

Turning around so he could see what was going on, Ross's heart leaped when he saw that Logan had managed to disarm the other man, and that Rich had grabbed his gun. Unfortunately, his moment of hope was short lived as he watched the first intruder raise a 9mm up in the air and fire off one shot, thus distracting Logan. His mouth formed a thin hard line as he watched the tall guy beat the crap out of Logan. Ross momentarily looked around, trying to find something with which to assist, when from behind he felt a gun barrel press into the back of his head. "Don't even think about it."

Sighing heavily, he watched the intruders leave the interrogation room and slam the door behind them. The tall guy seemed to be the group's leader; perhaps if they could manage to take him down, the rest would scatter. Ross carefully kept his face free from any expression that might give away what he was thinking.

Two of them grabbed his arm and hauled him off towards the conference room. Once at the door, one of them unlocked it. Ross had to wonder where they found the keys. He had lost the keys to the conference just days after he arrived at Major Case. Ross quit pondering the lost keys as he was shoved into the room, and the door was locked behind him again.

He hit the table in the conference room, hard. For a few seconds, he tried to remember how to breathe, as hands eased him into one of the chairs. As he regained his breath and composure, he remembered why he hated this conference room—the chairs were damn uncomfortable.

Eames' voice broke the silence, "Captain, are you alright?"

He waved aside her concern. "I'm fine. Just got the breath knocked out of me." Studying the four women's faces, he asked them, "How are you all?"

Eames and Wheeler replied almost instantly, "Pissed off."

Turning towards the chuckle from behind them, Ross studied Rodgers' face. Noticing her arm, he questioned her closely, "How's the arm?"

Frowning even more, she minced out her words. "Hurts like hell and not getting any better sitting here. What the hell is going on out there?"

Ross rubbed his temples, trying to think of something to say that would give them some encouragement.

Eames responded before he had a chance to say anything. "Not good I take it."

Sighing, Ross studied Rena, noticing for the first time that she was gripping the side of the table tightly. "Mrs. Goren, are you alright?"

Trying to smile, she nodded. "I'm fine. How's Bobby?"

He shook his head, "I don't know. They have split us up in the two interrogation rooms. Goren, Johnson, Frost and Knox are believed to be in the other room. I, Rich, Logan Melbourne and Nichols were locked in Interrogation Room One."

"Logan? What the hell is he doing here?" Wheeler asked incredulously.

Ross looked down at the floor and then back at Wheeler before answering, "He was dropping off paperwork downstairs and came up here to visit right before everything went down."

Trying to ignore his pounding headache, he continued, "Logan did try to create an opportunity to get us free, but it failed."

Wheeler lifted her head up in fear, "The gunshot we heard?"

Nodding, Ross put his elbows on the table as he spoke. "Didn't go off very well, but he gave it a good try." Pointing at Eames and Wheeler, "Should we manage to try anything, your job is to protect Rodgers and Mrs. Goren."

Both women began to protest, but he cut them off. "Listen, Rodgers has a broken arm, that's going to restrict what she can and can't do. Rena is a civilian, and can you imagine what Goren would do if something happened to her? Think about it detectives. Your number one priority right now is to make sure that they are safe."

Eames closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall of the conference room. She could imagine what Goren would do, and it wasn't pretty. Noticing movement from the corner of her eye, she called out, "Heads up, Captain. They're heading back this way."

Rena grabbed his hand and beseeched him, "Danny, tell Bobby I love him and not to do anything foolish."

Ross stared into Rena's eyes, and nodded. As the door opened and he was being manhandled out of the room, he couldn't help but think, _Great, I just got nominated to inform Goren that his wife is in this mess with us._

***

Goren really wanted to pace the interrogation room. Pacing usually helped him think, but with the restricted room and the number of people crammed in with him, the room pacing the room just wasn't an option. Running his hand through his hair, he tried to focus on what he knew.

He grimaced as he realized he didn't know a lot. He had too many questions without any answers. Those answers would shape his plan to get out of here, and he desperately wanted out of here. Closing he eyes, he leaned back against the wall. He knew that Rena was probably worried sick about him after he didn't show up for the doctor's appointment. She would worry, and that wasn't good for her or the baby right now. As the door to the interrogation room opened, he fought down the almost overwhelming desire to fight his way out of the room.

The kidnappers entered with guns drawn and aimed at several of them—all of them head shots. From the hallway, Goren could see Ross being escorted into the room with another gun pressed to the back of his head. Quickly and quietly, he tried to capture all the details of the scene in front of him. Without a word being spoken, they shoved Ross into the room and quickly withdrew.

Everyone reacted at once, some to try and grab the door and others to help the Captain back to his feet. It only took seconds for it to be revealed that the door was once more bolted shut. Ross waved off the hands of support as he stood up.

"Detectives, any one hurt?"

Everyone shook their heads no. Goren spoke up first, desperate to get the answers he need, "Where is everyone else?"

"We've got the majority of the rest of the squad in the other interrogation room. Eames, Wheeler, Rodgers and a civilian are in the small conference room." Ross turned away from Goren's gaze. He really didn't want to tell Goren who the civilian was, yet it would soon be unavoidable.

"Who's in Interrogation Room One then?"

"Rich, Logan, Nichols and Melbourne."

Goren's eyebrows rose at Logan's name. "What the hell is Mike doing here?"

Irritation filled Ross's voice as he responded, "Stopping by to visit. He was dropping off his paperwork downstairs and thought he would come by."

Johnson spoke up, "Picked a hell of a day to visit."

Goren grinned. While he knew that several of the detectives didn't care for Logan, he personally liked him. And ever since Mike decided to leave, he had gotten to know him even better. "Trust Logan to find the biggest pot of trouble in the city and land right in the middle of it," he snarked. Closing his eyes briefly, he continued. "He tried to break out earlier didn't he? That was the gunshot we heard."

Ross nodded. "It was. Could have worked, if it hadn't been for the ringleader."

"Tall guy? About 6'5, and definitely works out?"

"That would be the one. Did a number on Logan, but I was removed from the room, so I don't know if Logan was injured or not."

"Why they moving you around, Captain?" Melbourne asked.

Ross sighed, "Probably letting me see that everyone is physically fine. They are anticipating hostage negotiations."

Goren nodded. "They'll try to use the civilian too. Against the hostage negotiator and to keep us in line."

Sorrow filled Ross's face. There was no avoiding it now, as he said softly, "Goren, you have no idea." Goren's brow crinkled in confusion, his entire face expressing his silent question. "I'm sorry, Detective," Ross apologized sincerely.

"For what," Goren asked confusedly.

"The civilian is your wife, Rena."


	7. A Quick Side Trip Down Memory Lane

**Chapter 7—A Quick Side Trip down Memory Lane**

_February 1992, Prom Night_

Red and white balloons filled the high school gymnasium, in vain attempts to disguise the room for what it was. The basketball goals on one side of the gym had been swung into their up position, while the goals on the far side supported a huge sheet designed to be the backdrop for the makeshift stage. Round tables from the cafeteria were set up along the edges of the wall, next to the collapsible bleachers that had been moved to allow for more space. While the tables had dim lighting, the center of the gym had been brightly lit to serve as a dance floor.

On the stage, a student sat behind a table filled with CD and record players. The gym teacher, appearing extremely uncomfortable in his suit and tie, tried to stand surreptitiously behind the stage and approve or disapprove the music selection. Already the student body had been witness to clashes between the two. No one was really sure who won, and neither party seemed satisfied with the results. Popular songs by Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston and Bryan Adams echoed throughout the gymnasium, guiding the steps of those students who braved the dance floor.

A group of eight sat around a table near the 'dance floor', talking and laughing. A dark haired boy leaned across the table, stabbing his finger into the table in front of the other boy he was speaking to. "Look, Jeremy, I don't care what you say; there is no comparing Guns 'n' Roses to the NKOTB crap."

"Ah, come on man. From a purely vocal perspective, you've got to admit..."

"Nothing," the first boy interrupted. "I don't have to admit anything. I don't care what perspective you come from, there is absolutely NO way those two bands are **any way** alike." Leaning back into his chair, he draped his arm across the back of his girlfriend's chair.

A blond haired girl next to Jeremy laughed, "You know Jeremy does that just to watch you get mad, don't listen to him."

Jeremy placed his hand on his chest, in mock protest. "Me?? Deliberately start an argument? Never!"

The entire group burst out in laughter, with the boys in arm's reach punching Jeremy in the arm.

The dark haired boy pulled his girlfriend closer as the opening notes to a Mariah Carey song spilled out of the speakers, "Come on; dance with me."

Smiling, she lightly brushed her auburn hair out of her face. "Of course." She held his hand as he led her out on the dance floor. Looking up at him, her smile deepened. "Too bad this can't last forever."

"What this night? You want to be stuck in this gym forever?"

Laughing she shook her head slightly, "No, silly. This dance."

He gently cupped her face, "I'd make it more memorable, but Mr. Straight-laced Edwards is watching over us like a hawk. He would just love to have an excuse to give me detention."

"That's because you have this bad habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Grinning mischievously, he replied, "Sometimes, but it's usually worth being there." She rolled her eyes and chuckled lightly.

The song ended, and the opening notes of Bryan Adam's _(Everything I do) I do it for You_ began. Her eyes sparkled, "Let's dance to this one, too. I love this song."

He continued to hold her close, "You like a song about a thief?"

"He may have been a thief, but he was a nobleman too."

Enjoying teasing her a little, "But he was a thief."

She tilted her head up and gazed into his eyes, "He got his Maid Marian in the end."

"And you're my Maid Marian," he stated seriously.

"Then you had better make the kiss you give me later worth the wait."

"That's a promise."

_May 1992, Graduation Night_

"Class of 1992, please adjust your tassels." A brief pause, then, "Class of 1992, it is my pleasure to say for the last time, you are dismissed." Blue hats suddenly flew up into the air, raining down on the new high school graduates below. The students began to hug and laugh with each other, some shedding a few tears.

The tall dark haired boy walked through the crowd of his fellow graduates, grabbing the auburn haired girl up and spinning her around, "WE DID IT! WAHOO!"

"Of course we did," she replied, giggling.

Forestalling any other reply she might have, he kissed her deeply on the lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She turned, getting caught up in another classmate's hug.

He reached out and pulled her back into his arms, "Sure you can't come to the party tonight?"

Frowning, she replied, "You know I can't. My dad insists on heading back to his house tonight, and you know I have to spend some time there."

"Aaargh. Why does he have to live so far away?"

"Cause that where he has lived ever since my parents divorced, silly. Besides, isn't your brother home on leave from the Army?"

"Yeah. He's going to drive a bunch of us down to Old Man Lorry's farm for a bit of a graduation party."

Biting her lip slightly, she gazed up at him, "Don't do anything stupid down there, ok?"

Waving off her concern, he said, "We're just going to have a couple of beers and chill out for a bit. Nothing major."

Turning her head around towards the sound of her name being called, she said, "Hey, I've got to go, that's my dad." Giving him a quick hug, she told him, "I'll see you in a couple of weeks, ok?"

Trying to hide his disappointment, he hugged her back. "Yeah, I'll see ya in a couple of weeks."

As he watched her walk away, his older brother came up and draped his arm around his shoulders. "Well, little bro, you've finally graduated. How does it feel?"

"Not much different I guess," he replied with a shrug.

His brother laughed, "Well, I'll have to see if I can change that. Your girl gone?"

"Yeah, she's going to be at her dad's for the next two weeks."

Dragging him away from the other graduates, the older boy continued, "Well, then, let's get started on your graduation present then." He jerked his thumb toward his truck.

"Do I have to make an appearance around Mom?"

"Nah," the elder brother replied as they climbed into his old truck. "She's already left, said something about trying to catch the bingo game down in Murphy's County—told me that me and you would have to fend for ourselves for the next couple of days." He started the truck and began to drive off.

After a few moments of silence, his brother spoke up while he shifted gears in the old truck, "Hey, grab us a couple of beers from behind the seat there."

Reaching back behind the seat, the younger brother opened the cooler, "Damn! How much beer did you get?"

"Enough to hopefully get both of us drunk as skunks." Taking the beer handed to him, and taking a quick swig, he told his younger brother, "I have something else for you, too."

"Yeah? What?"

"You'll see little bro. Trust me, after tonight you're not going to even miss that girl of yours." He took another swig of his beer, "Though I have to admit, she's got a decent body. Definitely has a good rack on her. How's the sex?"

Slouching down in the seat a bit, the other boy answered, "Don't know."

Snickering slightly, the older boy responded, "She won't give it up, huh? Well don't worry about it. I figured she was a little uptight from what Mom told me."

Finishing his beer, he threw the can in the floorboard. "I don't want to talk about it."

The truck slowed down and pulled into a motel, with the constant hum of the interstate nearby. Hopping out of the truck, his brother pulled the cooler out. "Come on, bro. Let's head inside."

"I thought we were going down to Old Man Lorry's place," he replied.

"Nah, everyone goes down there. I wanted to do something different for ya." He pulled out a key and opened the door. "Little brother, meet Krissy and Jessie."

Two barely clad women sat up and greeted the two. Jessie barely waited for his brother to set down the cooler of beer before she pounced on him.

Krissy ambled over, running her hands over the younger boy's chest. "You're cute," she purred into his ear.

His brother pushed the other girl off of him, reached into the cooler and threw a beer towards him, "Happy graduation, little brother."

He stood in the motel room stiff as a board. "Man, I don't know about this…"

"If you're worried about that girl of yours, look at it this way. When she finally gives it up for you, you will at least have some experience under your belt. Besides, she'll never know."

Krissy pulled him over to the empty bed, since his brother and Jessie were all over each other on the other bed. Krissy began to massage his shoulders, occasionally allowing her hands to drift down to his chest, pressing her body up next to his. "Relax. Just enjoy."

"I don't know. I mean I've got a girlfriend…."

"Honey, everyone's got someone else." She reached over to the table next to the bed, allowing her breasts to rub up against him. Despite his tormented feelings, he could feel his arousal building. She picked up a glass pipe, smoked a bit. "Here, take a hit off this. It will help you relax."

"I . . . I don't know."

His brother glanced over at him, "Go ahead, bro. It's a party for you after all."

Sighing wearily he accepted the pipe she held out to him, and took a quick hit. Almost instantly he felt better, almost euphoric. Suddenly, the rest of the world seemed far away.

His thoughts became a jumble, and thoughts of his auburn haired girlfriend slipped further and further back as Krissy's expert hands and tongue began to work on him. He didn't protest when her hands glided down into his pants. Finally, he gave in to her ministrations and his building arousal. Pulling her close, he began to kiss her neck down to her breasts. Removing what little clothing she had in the way, he sucked on her nipples feeling his own arousal building even more. He pushed the girl onto the bed and removed his pants. His last thought he had before he satisfied his growing desire was that his girlfriend would never know.

_July 1993, Mires Residence_

"I spend a whole year working my butt off at Cornell, thinking you are doing the same here, only to find you like this!" she yelled.

Wincing from the volume of her voice, he asked, "What's wrong now?"

"What's wrong? What's right?" She kicked empty pizza boxes across the floor. "I've been home from New York for over a month now; only you're too busy getting stoned to know it."

"I know you've been home."

"Really. You know, I ignored what everyone was telling me while I was at college." Her voice deepened slightly, "That boy does nothing but drink and whore around." Changing her voice to a high pitch, she went on, "He's stoned more than he's sober."

Pointing her finger at his chest, she continued, "I don't know what has happened to you. You aren't the same person you were last year."

"Look, the past week or so I've just been chilling with Scott. He's having a rough time adjusting from getting out of the Army."

"You know, that might be true. A month ago. But that time has come and gone. What the hell has happened to you? You can't live your entire life like this."

Getting angry with her tone, he snarled at her, "What the hell do you know? Some of us don't getting a free cushy ride at some ritzy school up north."

Anger flashed through her eyes as she responded to him. "Cushy ride? I worked my ass off to get that scholarship and you know it. I work two jobs up there, plus maintaining my grades. I still managed to find time to write you every week. While in the meantime, you've flunked out of tech school and lost two jobs. Not to mention you barely write or call."

"Yeah, well I've been busy."

She surveyed the array of beer cans, ashtrays and general trash that littered the floor. "Oh, I can see that you've been busy," she snapped.

"Look, what do you want from me?"

"I want you to straighten up. I want you to grow up. We're not in high school anymore."

He rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, I think I know that."

Disgusted, she took another look around the room. "You are going down a dark, dark road, Will. And I have no desire to see the person who emerges from the end of that journey." Spinning on her heel, she turned and left the room.

From under a pile of blankets on the other side of the room, a voice called out, "Is she gone yet?"

"Yeah, Scott, she's gone."

"Man, why do you put up with her," Scott complained as the pushed off the blankets and sat up. "Is she always like that?"

"Like what?"

"Bitchy. She comes into your place barking orders like she owns you. Doesn't care about what you're doing." Repositioning himself on the mattress sitting on the floor, "Plus she won't even give out for you. All this waiting for marriage shit. Why haven't you kicked her to the curb already?"

Will just shrugged his shoulders, and lit up a joint. "I love her. I'll wait a couple of days for her to calm down and smooth everything out." Finishing his joint and ignoring his brother's disgusted look, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

It wasn't until days later that he found his class ring by the front door, along with every little trinket he had ever given her. He tried to call, only to find out that she had returned to school in New York State early. That's when he realized the expression in her eyes that day was more than just anger; that he had hurt her to the core. He drank to forget, and when that didn't work anymore, he found other things to help him forget her eyes.

He had almost forgotten until he sat in a police squad room, staring into the eyes of his high school love locked in a glass conference room gripping the sides of her chair.


	8. Reflections

**Chapter 8—Reactions**

Reflections upon the world, endless reflections. That was the job it was designed to do, allow for reflections. Reflections of one's life, reflections of love and trust, and reflections of truth and justice. It was not designed to be compassionate, or forgiving, it just had to be. The smooth, cold silvery surface that graced that wall worked as designed. In it, he could see every perceived mistake, every wrong turn, every unkind word and every fault in his soul. Under his banging fists, the window vibrated, but did not crack, or give way. It only reflected back the pain and anguish in his own brown eyes. Infinite reflections of his eyes reflecting back what he saw in the mirror. Yet, while part of his mind could ponder the marvels and physiological meanings of the mirror before him, the majority of his mind and soul cried out in unison one name, _Rena_.

After a few metaphorical years to the other members of the Major Case Squad confined in the interrogation room with Bobby, he finally turned around. He desperately attempted to regain his composure before he spoke, yet his voice was still filled with fear and emotion. "How did she wind up in there?"

Captain Daniel Ross briefly looked at his feet, before meekly looking up at him, "I believe I overheard her say something to Eames about grabbing lunch with you prior to her doctor's appointment."

Sorrow filled his face as he barely managed to choke back the cry in his throat. How ironic; they both had the same idea. Ross took Goren by the arm and led him over to a corner, somewhat away from everyone else in the room. "I was just in the small conference room with her, Eames, Wheeler and Rodgers. She's fine, a bit shaken up, but considering the situation, fine." Dropping his voice low, he added, "She asked me to tell you that she loves you and not to do anything foolish."

Goren closed his eyes, blinking back tears as he leaned his forehead against the wall. He tried to think, but all his mind could focus on was Rena and the baby. She just had a few more weeks before the baby was due, would they be able to get out of here alive? Would he make it out to see his child born? Fear gripped him, making it hard to breathe, let alone think. He had been scared once a few years ago when a manic Assistant DA started attacking families of police officers to have their cases diverted. He had attacked Rena, thinking at the time that they were already married. That fear paled in comparison to this. How could this be happening? How could he protect them both while trapped in this infernal room?

After what seemed like an eternity and seemingly thousands of worse case scenarios, Goren stood up straight and studied his fellow officers. Most eyes fell on him, probably waiting for his reaction. Yet the eyes staring at him had compassion, empathy and perhaps a bit of pity in them. He turned back to the window of the interrogation room, and pounded it one time with his fist—hard. As he pounded the window of the interrogation room, he did not bother to hide the tears that formed in his eyes.

*****

The evacuation of One Police Plaza went extremely smoothly, considering that that particular part of the emergency plan had never before been practiced or rehearsed. Captain Max Fulton had just slipped the headset on when the Chief of Detectives arrived on the scene. Fulton managed not to show any indication of the nuisance he felt the Chief's presence would cause. He had considered himself fortunate that the Chief had been out of the building when the Major Case squad room and team were taken hostage. Bracing himself for what he feared would be an ugly confrontation; he acknowledged the COD's presence with just a simple, "Chief."

"What's the situation, Captain?"

Clearing his throat Fulton answered, "At approximately 11:15 this morning, an undetermined number of gun men stormed the Major Case Squad room, gained control and took all present hostage. After they gained control of the squad room, all communication lines ceased. The intruders managed to interfere with phone and internet lines; we can't call or communicate with anyone inside the squad room, but they can communicate with anyone on the outside." Pausing briefly to catch his breath and refer to his notes, he continued, "Nine detectives assigned to Major Case are unaccounted for and assumed to be in the squad room along with Captain Ross. The medical examiner's office has reported that ME Rodgers was scheduled for a meeting with Captain Ross and detectives Wheeler and Nichols. She is also unaccounted for."

"So that's what 10, 11 hostages?"

"Actually 13 hostages. Michael Logan, currently finishing out his terminal leave prior to his retirement, is logged in as a visitor to the squad room. Nothing out of the ordinary with that, since Major Case was his last assignment before he turned in his retirement paperwork."

The Chief turned to stare at One Police Plaza. "And the last hostage?"

Fulton flipped through his notes quickly, until he located the page he was looking for. "The last hostage is also a visitor, Rena Goren. According to the visitor log, she came here to visit her husband, Detective Robert Goren of Major Case." He stopped to catch his breath. "The officer responsible for signing in visitors also notes that Mrs. Goren was 'visibly pregnant'. According to members of the squad that were out of the building, the Gorens are expecting a child within the next few weeks."

The Chief continued to stare at One Police Plaza. His posture did not give any indication to his thoughts or feelings on the situation. "What is your current plan of action, Captain?"

Slightly surprised at the Chief's question, Fulton shuddered slightly, "We . . . we are going to follow established procedures, sir. I've got a team coming in to assist with hostage negotiations."

A tall blonde woman walked up to the Chief then, handing him a file. After reading the contents, he handed the file back to the woman and turned to face Fulton. "We are not going to negotiate, Captain."

"What?" Fulton yelled.

All heads turned toward the Chief and the Captain. No one moved, and despite the machinery and computers near the busy street, the silence that surrounded them was deafening.

Unaffected by the stares and silence, the Chief issued his orders. "You heard me, Captain Fulton. We are not negotiating. I want those who orchestrated this terroristic act in custody. I want that building back in our control, regardless of the cost. Start formulating a plan to regain control of the 11th floor." He glanced at his watch. "Call me in two hours with your plan."

"Begging your pardon, Chief, but that kind of action could very well get our own detectives killed."

Clasping his hands behind his back, he gazed Fulton with a type of fatherly affection. "That would be unfortunate, son, but it is sometimes the price that we pay when we put on this uniform. Of course I want you to instruct the tactical team to protect the lives of our officers, but do not jeopardize the mission. "

"And the civilians?"

The Chief rocked back and forth on his heels for a brief moment, "All visitors are informed of the possible risks. It would be a hard price to pay, but I cannot allow anyone to use our own people against us." He paused as he surveyed his office building. "No, Captain, I cannot allow anyone to use anything against us."

"Sir, we can't go in guns blazing! Those are the best damn officers in the force – we owe it to them to try to get them out alive."

"Most of the officers in that squad are the best, I will agree with you on that. But my decision still stands. We will not negotiate."

Fulton's face flushed red with anger, "And Danny? Are you willing to let his boys grow up without their father?"

"Captain Fulton, I expect your team to make sure nothing happens to him. I assume you can handle this assignment." He paused momentarily and studied the captain. "Or would you like someone to replace you?"

"No, _sir_." Fulton snapped.

"Then I expect to see your plan of action in two hours

Not a single officer spoke as they watched the Chief depart the command post. When the blonde haired woman moved to follow him, Fulton grabbed her arm. "Katie, you are the Chief's PR person; you've got to get him to see that making a full-on raid with our own people plus a detective's very pregnant wife in there is not a good idea. They could be killed in trying to regain control."

Her eyes widened, "We have a civilian in there?"

"Yes. Rena Goren, wife of Detective Robert Goren. She's eight months pregnant."

The blonde woman shook her head and stared back One Police Plaza. "I. . . I . . . I'll see what I can do, Captain."

Fulton stared at her, "You better do better than that. I do not intend on having civilian blood on my hands because of the Chief's stupid mistake." His gaze deepened, "Nor will I let his dislike of a couple of detectives kill everyone up there."

****

No one ever called Elizabeth Rodgers a cheerful person. Considering her line of work, she did not tend to open up to many people. She had few friends outside of the medical examiner's office and the police force. Not many civilians understood the true cost of her work. After seeing what came through her 'office' during the workday, safety to her meant her work. There she discovered and pondered the mysteries brought before her. She pulled together the small threads to weave a part of the puzzle that the detectives needed to form a true picture of what happened. And it reinforced her belief that the world is a very, very dangerous place.

Hence the assault on the Major Case squad room affected her deeply. Beyond the fear and her broken arm, her own sense of rightness was assaulted. This sort of thing happened in the outside world, not here in One Police Plaza. Rodgers, being who she was, was not happy about it at all. In fact, pissed off would be the best description for what she was feeling right now.

However, the anger did not cloud her judgment, instead it made her focus sharper. Little things that she normally would not have noticed before now seemed to jump out at her. Small movements and little gestures, but they spoke volumes to her. They spoke of fear, anger and of future retribution. No doubt existed in her mind that once the restraints that had been placed upon them were removed there would be hell to pay. And Major Case does not accept credit.

Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the onslaught of emotions and perceptions. Just when she managed to slow her breathing and her heart rate, she heard a small, sharp intake of breath. Rodgers barely opened her eyes and looked towards the sound. Noticing which woman was sitting in that direction, she watched both the woman and the clock very cautiously.

***

Eames paced up and down one side of the conference room. Rodgers and Rena sat on the other side of the table, while Wheeler had positioned herself at the head of the table by the door. While the small room did not give her much room to move, she did manage to get a good pace going. She just had to burn off some energy.

The captain's orders did not sit well with her at all. Damn it, she wanted to go in and teach these bastards who they were messing with. Babysitting did not sit well with her. Yet, she couldn't fault the Captain's decision either. Rodgers did not receive the same training that she and Wheeler got. And then there was Rena.

Goren's probably flipping a gasket right now, Eames thought. She wondered if the Captain gave him the same, sit tight speech he gave us. Considering her partner, probably not. It was more likely they were having to keep him from breaking down the door and breaking a few heads, which is exactly what she wanted to do right now.

She stopped pacing for a moment, and gazed at Rena. She was gripping the sides of her chair and fidgeting slightly. Eames knew from personal experience how uncomfortable these chairs were while pregnant. She was biting her bottom lip, probably an indication of the stress she was under right now. Hell, they were all feeling the stress right now.

_Come on, Goren_ she thought. _Get us the hell out of here._

***

Reflections upon reflections. His wet eyes reflected the emotion and torment that he felt. The reflections of worry and concern of his Captain and fellow officers. The reverberations, which were the reflections of his fist pounding upon the glass. Reflections upon reflections.

Yet somewhere in the sea of endless reflections, a spark lit. A tiny spark that refused to be smothered by self-doubt or worry. A spark that began to build upon itself. Each reverberation fed it, letting the spark grow and grow. Finally he could no longer ignore it. Surprised, he found that the tiny spark grew into a light. A light of hope, perhaps?

Turning to Captain Ross, he spoke. "Captain, I have an idea."


End file.
